this is you, at five.
you asked me the other day about when you go to sleep tonight. "will i be four or five?” you wanted to know this last year too. will i still be this age when i wake up?
it kind of breaks my heart to say, never again will you be able to say you are four. four was full of planet earth re-enactments, properly pronouncing the “r” in my name, spontaneous worship sessions in the kitchen, and passionately singing "CAAAN you feel the wuv tu-night" on repeat.
i loved you at four. and yet, i know that each new day with you feels like, how did we ever live without this version of you, right now? it felt like that the day i found out you existed, the day you high-fived me from inside the womb, the day i first saw your sweet face. it felt like that yesterday, and i know it’ll feel like that tomorrow.
every day with you has been such a joy and i’m so thankful that even greater things are still to come. i can’t wait to see what five looks like.
happy birthday, luca.
i love you forever.
love always, auntie sarah.